


What's Cooking?

by MinervaDashwood



Series: Maddy Brosca [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dating, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinervaDashwood/pseuds/MinervaDashwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After spending most of her life scraping by, Maddy Brosca has finally found some stability.  As a first-year pre-med student, she likes to keep things simple: studying, cooking, and spending time with her roommate, Morrigan.  However, when Alistair barges into her life—quite literally—her simple routine becomes anything but.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Package

**Author's Note:**

> The amazing and beautiful artwork is by [cock-speed](http://cocked-up.tumblr.com/post/118869560429/whats-cooking-by-minerva-dashwood-pairing). She was great to work with, and I basically had a fangirl moment every time she sent me something.
> 
> Special thanks to Leigh ([adaar-approves](http://adaar-approves.tumblr.com)) for the beta reading, handholding, and cheerleading. I wouldn't have made it without her.
> 
> I also made a [playlist](https://8tracks.com/spartancheckup/what-s-cooking-playlist), one song for each chapter.

Maddy grunted at the stiff packaging and sat on her twin-sized bed, which was two feet off the floor.  She stared at the purple object just beyond her grasp.  Why did two slivers of plastic have to be so durable? She just wanted get out the damned vibrator, but it was like breaking into a bank safe.

She sighed. If only she could get it open, she could relieve some of the tension that had been building in the past week.  Not to mention the tension that had been building since she last had sex two months ago.

She yanked on it again, and the whole thing flew out of her hands, nicking her forefinger in the process.  She rose from her bed, which was against the wall because she liked sleeping in corners (they made her feel safer), and bent over to pick up the vibrator.

Behind her, she heard a soft knock on her bedroom door.  Then the door opened.  She froze, realizing she hadn’t locked it, and waited for Morrigan to say whatever she wanted. And then the both of them could pretend this _never_ _happened_.

“Oh! God! I’m sorry!”

That wasn’t Morrigan.  Maddy spun around, package in her grasp, to find herself staring at a tall blond man in her doorway. Who the hell was _he_?

“I-I-I was looking for the loo,” he stuttered, gawking at her.

She clenched her jaw, and tightened her grip on the package until the hard plastic edges pained her palms.

“Do you see a toilet in here?” she demanded, stomping forward--well aware she was dressed only in her bra and panties--and slammed the door closed in his face. If only he’d been staring at her underwear. Typically, it was her height that people first noticed, since she was no taller than four feet, and then they stopped seeing anything else. 

She sighed and sat down at her desk, which was in the corner opposite her bed. Now her mood was dampened considerably. She set the package on the edge of her desk, found her cell phone, and texted her roommate. _A strange man was just staring at me._

A moment later heard Morrigan’s laughter bubble up from the living room, and Maddy decided to be angry with her, too.

Morrigan’s reply came seconds later. _That’s Alistair. He’s harmless. And apparently can’t follow simple directions to washroom._

Maddy stared at the message.  That still didn’t explain what the hell he was doing in their apartment.

 _Daylen’s friend._ Morrigan supplied before Maddy could ask. _Didn’t want to leave the simpering idiot alone. You know how convincing D can be._

Maddy sighed and locked her phone.  She rummaged through her clothesbasket, and pulled on some wrinkled teal sweat pants and a matching hoodie. 

She was hungry anyway, she realized.  It was Friday, so Daylen, Morrigan’s boyfriend, no doubt had filled their fridge with fresh ingredients for the weekend.  In return, Maddy would cook and Morrigan would clean up. 

Maybe if Maddy ate, she’d feel better, since cooking did usually calm her nerves.

Besides, once this oblivious man left the bathroom, she could corner him and give him a piece of her mind for barging in and _staring_ at her. For Stone’s sake. How did he get lost in the fucking _hallway_ of a two-bedroom apartment?  He was a lecher _and_ an idiot.

Maddy stepped out of her room, and realized maybe hallway was a bit generous. The doors to her room, Morrigan’s room, and their bathroom formed a semicircle, with the bathroom in the middle. Opposite that, was a slightly wider doorway that led to their living room.  If Maddy were feeling gracious, she would have given this Alistair the benefit of the doubt.

But she was not feeling gracious.

She scowled when she found Morrigan and Daylen sitting side by side on the cream-colored sofa in the living room.  It was already dark outside, Maddy noticed, looking through the wide paneled windows opposite the couch.  No wonder she was hungry.

Daylen was reading some hardcover book and Morrigan was tapping impatiently on her phone.  However, they both looked up when Maddy stood in front of them, one hand on her hip.

“Who _is_ that?” she demanded. Rather than wait for a reply, she stomped her way through the living room and into the kitchen.  Once there, she flung open the fridge, taking a deep breath as she surveyed all the fresh meats and vegetables she had to work with. Daylen was a treasure, she had to admit, even if he had questionable friends. 

Maddy grabbed chicken, fresh vegetables, and wine from the fridge and carried them over to an empty space on the counter. By then, Daylen and Morrigan had followed her into the room and sat at the square table next to the doorway.

Her back to them, Maddy washed her hands and then took out the longest, sharpest knife from the block before finally turning to look at them. “Talk.”

Daylen tried to hide his smile from Maddy, but she could see his blue eyes sparking with amusement.  He’d once called Maddy adorable, and while Maddy _hated_ that sentiment, she couldn’t deny that she probably looked ridiculous standing barely four feet tall and halfheartedly threatening them with a kitchen knife.

Morrigan giggled and raised her eyebrows at her boyfriend, who was nice enough _not_ to laugh. 

Daylen cleared his throat. “Alistair is one of my good friends, and he’s having a bad…day.”

Maddy waved the knife in the air, as if to say, “So what?” Then, she turned and stepped onto her stool, which raised her about six inches higher so that everything on the counter was within easy reach.

Daylen lowered his voice, “His…stepmom told him not to visit for the winter break, and he’s…not taking it well.”

Maddy faced the counter and began chopping carrots and celery. “So?”

Morrigan scoffed.  “That boy is sensitive to _everything.”_

“Family’s important to him,” Daylen replied, his voice resuming its normal volume.

“I haven’t seen Mother for two years. You don’t see me having a break down because of it.” 

Maddy smiled over her growing piles of chopped vegetables. Morrigan’s mom, Flemeth, was backpacking across the continent, of all things.  Their fridge was covered with postcards from the strangest places.

“Morrigan,” Daylen hissed.  “He’s not having a break down, I just didn’t think he should be spending Friday evening alone.”

Maddy stepped down from her stool and retrieved a pan from under the oven. “So you brought the fool here?”  This time she glared over her shoulder at Morrigan.  “Couldn’t go one weekend without this one, could you?”

To Maddy’s surprise, Morrigan’s face flushed the slightest shade of pink. “Don’t complain, my friend. I see you have no problem with Daylen being here every weekend.”

It was true; Maddy didn’t mind it at all.  Aside from stocking the fridge, Daylen took care of other things around their apartment: burnt out light bulbs, leaky faucets, the bothersome frat boys who lived downstairs.

“Daylen’s not the problem,” Maddy murmured, spraying the sheet pan with butter and carrying it over to her vegetables.  She climbed onto her stool again, imagining life in a dwarf-sized apartment rather than a human-sized one.  But that meant living in Orzammar with Mama, and Maddy decided she was fine using her stool.

Morrigan cleared her throat, and without turning, Maddy felt the atmosphere in the room change.  She scraped the celery and carrots, along with a diced onion and minced garlic onto the sheet pan. Frowning she turned on her stool to find the blonde idiot standing in the doorway, his hands fisted into the pockets of his jeans and his eyes trained on her.

“I’m _really_ sorry,” he said, sparing Daylen a glance, almost like he was begging for help.

Maddy blinked at him. Even hunched and ashamed, he was large enough to span the width of the doorway. He had a chiseled jaw; his cheeks and chin were dusted with just the right amount of stubble.  Add to that his broad shoulders and piercing eyes, and she wondered why she hadn’t invited him to her bed instead of kicking him out.

Then she noticed how he was dressed: stylishly with brown loafers, relaxed fit jeans, and an untucked, long-sleeved, navy blue, button-down shirt. He was undoubtedly some rich boy with four parents (two biological, two step from his parents’ inevitable remarriages). He’d probably never worked hard in his life, and now he was in her kitchen because he couldn’t handle not going home for the winter holidays.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is a mod- au, I wanted to somehow echo the combat classes classes from the game. Maddy was a rogue, so I decided she'd be good at cutting up things.


	2. Now for the Proper Introductions

Alistair’s heart hammered, and he clenched his sweaty palms in his pockets. She looked no less attractive in her teal sweats than she had in her red bra and panties. 

He didn’t even know her name, but he knew the exact shape of her ass, and as embarrassed as he was, he couldn’t remove the image from his memory. Standing in the doorway, he only added to the vision: her ebony skin, her chin-length braids framing her face, her round nose and mouth, her brown eyes that were at the moment, raking over him with disdain.

She owed him nothing, he told himself, yet he wished she would say something to break the tension in the room. Like laugh away his foible and introduce herself, and then he could go about the business of knowing _her_ as well as he already knew her rear end.

“I should go,” he said at last.  Honestly, what was he doing here?  He could be at home. The thought filled him with dread. Nothing was there but an empty apartment to go with his empty wallet, and just enough food to last him until Monday. The last of his monthly allowance he lent to Anna for the boys, but on Monday Eamon would make a deposit to his checking account.

The woman stared at him. “Can you cook?”

Daylen, supposedly his best friend, chortled.  “No, but he’s a quick learner.”

Alistair glared at him, and then gazed at the vixen in the kitchen.

“Wash your hands,” she said. “And I’ll give you a lesson.”

“Uh, sure,” he replied, his cheeks hot and his heart still beating fast. “I’m Alistair,” he told her, lathering his hands with soap.

“Maddy.” She sliced expertly at raw chicken on the counter, her knife like an assassin’s blade warring against dead poultry. He remembered red lace and had to take a deep, steadying breath.

She ordered him around the kitchen. He fetched pans and spices--at one point she let him stir the rice, and he thought it was a reward for good behavior. It felt like no time at all before the four of them sat at the table, steaming dishes of food spread before them.

“Not bad,” she said around a mouthful of vegetables.  She looked pointedly at him, and Alistair smiled from the inside out.

“Give it time,” Morrigan said, picking at her food, “there’s still a chance one of us could have been poisoned.”

Alistair groaned inwardly.  Things had been going so well.  “It’s only you I’d poison, Morrigan.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Morrigan sneered.  “Why can’t you be civilized for a change?”

“I wasn’t— _You’re_ the one who said I wanted to poison you!”  Alistair leaned forward, his elbows on the table, fork poking in the air in Morrigan’s direction.

Daylen sighed. “She was only kidding, Alistair.  Really, you are too easy to bait.”  Daylen scooped a forkful of chicken into his mouth and talked around it. “’Sides, anything goes wrong, Maddy’ll get us sorted. Future doctor and all.”

Alistair slid his elbows from the table, suddenly remembering he was trying to make a good impression.

“You’re going to be a doctor?” he asked Maddy, calm and intrigued.

She scoffed. “Pre-med. Maybe.  I mean, why not.”

Morrigan, deigning to actually eat the food he helped prepare, swallowed before replying.  “Oh, she’s brilliant, and she’ll do whatever she puts her mind to.  No matter the obstacle.”

Maddy looked across the table at Morrigan and nodded. 

Daylen caught Alistair’s eye and arched his eyebrows.  Alistair knew that look, and he blushed before glancing down at his plate.  “ _What about this one, my friend?”_

This was Alistair’s senior year, and although Daylen had never gone to college—he and Morrigan were fitness trainers at the gym where they met—Daylen knew big changes were headed Alistair’s way.  Since then, Daylen had been trying like mad to find Alistair a “suitable” woman for adulthood.

Problem was, between Alistair giving money to Anna and spending time with the boys, few women had the patience for him. First dates and small talk were easy enough, but no one had wanted to stick around when he needed to pick up Jonas from school or gave Anna money for the boys’ new sneakers or backpacks.

With this in mind, Alistair realized how quiet Maddy had been, and he wondered again what she thought of him.  Was he still a cad, or perhaps a little more respectable at this point? He was about to try to get her talking, when he noticed her staring out the kitchen window over the sink

“It’s going to storm,” she said.

Everyone looked outside.  By now it was too dark to see if there were clouds in the sky, but the wind whipped at the tree limbs and some of the utility lines swung widely between their posts.

Alistair groaned.  He’d have to walk home in that.  To his cold apartment with stale cheese and milk he hoped hadn’t turned yet.

“Maddy has a car,” Daylen announced, smiling widely at them all. “She can take Alistair home.”

 _That_ was interesting, Alistair noted.  Most people in Highever walked or used public transportation. More importantly, however, Maddy didn’t seem averse to the idea.

“That’s fine,” she said, glancing his way.

.  . .  .  . .

The ride to his place was quick, and along the way Alistair learned that Maddy’s brother-in-law was a financier of some repute.  That explained the car, at least, since cars were a pricey luxury in the city.  He also learned that while Maddy’s mother lived in Orzammar, the dwarven city to the west, Maddy’s sister and her sister’s husband lived in suburbs not far from Highever.

“Do they expect you to visit a lot?” Alistair asked as they turned onto his street.

She shrugged, “I don’t, except for holidays and birthdays. Rica is important to me, but Bhelen’s a little…he’s a lot to handle sometimes.”

Alistair nodded, wondering if the stereotypes about tenacity of Orzammar’s business community were somewhat true.  Maddy for her part seemed to have little interest in talking of her brother-in-law’s career or his money.  She simply said he was good for Rica.

He told her where to park, but by then the storm was worse. He sat in the passenger seat staring up at the sky when the first pellet of hail bonked onto the windshield.

Maddy looked dismally outside.  “It’s worse than when we left.”

Alistair was struck with a wonderful idea.  “Want to come up, wait it out for a bit?”  He clutched the handle on his door, gazing down at her. Perhaps he was being overly eager. He didn’t really know her all that well, and their introduction had not been ideal, but—

“Sure,” she said, unlatching her seatbelt.  “You have a roommate?” 

She returned his gaze, and Alistair found himself smiling at the way her dark brown eyes met his.

“Just me,” he replied.

“Great,” she said.

 


	3. Defying Expectations

Alistair’s place was smaller than Maddy expected. She imagined newness and shine, stainless steel counters, white-blue decor, large TV, and plush carpeting.

Instead, the walls were painted a dingy yellow-white, the carpet grey and worn, the counter wooden and scratched.  In the living room sat an old plaid couch, and before it was a boxed television set.  She wasn’t even sure they _made_ those anymore.  The living room and the kitchen were basically the same room, with only a counter and stools between them. A room-sized rug of questionable shades of green sprawled the floor between the couch and the television stand.

Suffice it to say, she felt no remorse standing at the threshold dripping rainwater onto a rubber mat set atop yellowed linoleum.

She heard Alistair lock the door, and then he sidestepped around her, flipping on the light switches.  The lighting fixtures were old, and drowned the apartment in lazy light that gave the whole place a withered, tired atmosphere.

“Let me get the heat turned on,” he murmured, and Maddy smirked at his nervous energy.

She stood there a moment more as he ducked his head into a utility closet, and then made his way into the kitchen. 

“Tea?” he asked.

“Sure,” she replied, sliding out of her coat and stretching to hang it on an empty peg by the door.

Alistair rolled up his shirtsleeves, ran the tap, and took out two mugs. That done, he turned back to face Maddy and exclaimed, “Oh!” He rounded the counter.  “Let me get you a towel.”  He went through a door next to the closet, and returned with the towel, smiling as he handed it to her.  “You’re freezing I imagine.”

She shrugged, and smirked meeting his eyes.  “I’ll warm up soon enough.”

His eyes brightened, but not in the way she hoped. Relief was painted on his face, not excitement.  “I’d offer you something to eat, but I had to give money to my sister, and she…” He shrugged, and made for the kitchen before he finished.  “You don’t want to hear about that.”

“We have time to kill,” she found herself saying, as she stepped out of her sneakers. Despite them and her coat, she was still quite damp, from her socks to her hooded sweatshirt, and even though the couch was worn, it’d be rude to sit down there.

She made her way to the kitchen counter, pulled out a stool with a shallow back and black vinyl lining. She gripped the back of the stool and the counter and managed to leverage herself into the seat.  Relieved that Alistair didn’t say anything about her height, she resumed their conversation.

“You said something about your sister?”  She imagined a female version of Alistair: tall, blonde, athletic, and attractive.

“Uh, half sister,” he replied, momentarily distracted as he put the kettle onto the stove.

“Oh?”

He set out two mugs in front of her, and finally stopped for a moment. He leaned his hip against the counter so that he was standing across from her.

“She’s uh…well…she’s got two boys—my nephews—and sometimes I help them out. It’s the end of the month, so, you know…”

Maddy’s image of the prep schoolboy with the impeccable lineage was fading by the second.  “She’s a single mother?”

Alistair folded his arms across his chest, and Maddy gave herself a second to appreciate what that did to his forearms and biceps. 

“She drinks,” he sighed.

She was unable to hide her surprise, and she widened her eyes staring at him. “And has kids?”

“Like I said, long story.”

She leaned her elbows on the counter, her interest piqued, and rested her chin in her hands.  “I have one of those.”

Alistair looked at her sideways, “A kid?”

“A drunk.”

He was too polite to say anything, or else too surprised, so Maddy half smiled at him (and his biceps) and said, “My mother.  Currently drying out for the sixth time in a halfway house in Orzammar.”

“Well,” he said, “It appears that we have _something_ in common.” He provided her with another glimpse of his boyish grin, this time with a glint in his eye that did strange things to her belly.  Just as the kettle began to whistle, he remarked, “That’s nice,” and turned to fetch the water.

. .  . .  . .

Alistair used a potholder to pour from the kettle.  Maddy’s smile was entirely disarming, and considering the fact that only hours ago she seemed to hate him, he felt things were going quite well.

“She’s my half sister, Anna,” he said passing Maddy her mug.

“So, your stepmom’s daughter?”

Alistair paused. This was feeling too complicated already. He decided to go with the simplified version he told his friends. Made things easier.

“Um…not really. See, I’m adopted. Anna and I have the same biological mom, but different dads, I think.” That much was true, at least. He shrugged and tried to laugh at himself.

Maddy raised her eyebrows and stirred her tea.

“Well, I never knew my mother or my father. Eamon raised me. Well mostly.”

“Eamon?”

“Yeah, he’s a minor arl near Redcliffe? Anyway, Eamon adopted me. He got married a few years later to Isolde.  Now they have a kid, Connor, and well…Isolde’s into this whole socialite scene.” He shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter. “I don’t exactly fit into the pretty picture she wants.”

Maddy didn’t respond at first, but Alistair felt like he was undergoing some sort of assessment. Her eyes peered at him over her mug of tea. He tried to care less about Isolde’s machinations and more about the way Maddy’s eyes watched him.

“You’re different,” she said, after some time. “I like it.”

Alistair scoffed, “Well that’s kinder than how Morrigan describes me to her friends.  Dimwitted and boring.”

Maddy nodded.  “‘A harmless idiot,’ she said.”

She smirked at him, and Alistair liked the way her eyes met his, not with pity but with amusement.  She really was quite something. She sipped on her tea and shivered.Then he noticed how she tucked her elbows close to her body and how she clutched the steaming mug to to her chest.  Briefly he wondered if she still had that lacy red bra on under her wet sweatshirt.

He swallowed thickly and averted his gaze. “Would you like something dry to wear?” he asked.

Her eyebrows rose. “You have something that would fit me?”

He blushed, remembering she barely came past his waist. “Um, probably not, but you could wear something of mine.  We could dry your clothes out for a bit before you have to leave.”

She tilted her head to the side, and Alistair had _no_ idea what that meant, but it wasn’t no, at least.  Perhaps that meant she’d stay a while and he could learn more about her and think less of red lace and satin.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” she said, sliding off the stool, her face hidden from him.

Alistair led her past his front door and into his bedroom, Once there, he found one of his smaller shirts from high school--a grey one with the white templar logo screen-printed on the front--and a pair of shorts with a drawstring. He laid them on the bed and walked passed her to the doorway.

Absurdly, he heard Maddy laugh at him, so he turned around.

“What?” he asked, perplexed.

“You were serious.” She folded her arms across her middle, standing by his bed and pressing her lips into a thin line.

“About?” he drew out the word, hoping he hadn’t somehow insulted her.

She chuckled and picked up the shirt, and held it in front of herself. The hem reached past her knees. “I’ve never had a guy show me to his bedroom and just leave before. Usually they…stick around.”

Alistair suddenly became rather warm.  The reality of his situation revealed itself quickly: he was home alone with a woman on a Friday night, and he’d just ushered her into his bedroom.

But he only meant to be helpful. The same way she meant to be helpful by giving him a ride home.  Besides, she surely didn’t think they would have sex, did she?  Was she storing condoms in the pocket of her hoodie?  He certainly didn’t have any on hand.  What kind of men did she go home with?  Did she think _he_ was trying to bed _her_?

All of this ran through his mind while she clutched his grey, worn Templar t-shirt and stared at him.

He shrugged. “What can I say?  I’m defying all your expectations.”  He left before she could say anything else, and took a few deep breaths on the other side of the door.

He needed to text Daylen. What else had Morrigan been telling Maddy? Alistair had never seen the appeal of a one-night-stand or a simple hookup. He wanted the romance, a relationship.

He made his way back to the kitchen and put their tea mugs in the sink.

It didn’t bother him that Maddy was obviously more _experienced_ with sex than him. That was true of most people he met.  But it bothered him that she thought _he_ would only keep her around for a quick fling.

He went to the living room and flipped on the TV, hoping it would serve as a distraction.  Almost immediately that damn jingle played, and Alistair rolled his eyes at the screen. His half brother Cailan spread his arms and postured in front of Theirin Industries’ latest department store. Alistair clenched his jaw and tore his attention away from the ad _._ When had Cailan started doing the promos instead of Maric?

He was relieved not have told Maddy anything about his real family. Well, his _other_ family.  Strange how he was comfortable talking about his drunk of a sister, but couldn’t stomach a word about his billionaire father and brother.  Well, it wasn’t like they were a part of his life the way Anna was. And Alistair had no regrets about _that_.

By then, Maddy came down the hallway.  The t-shirt reached her knees and the shorts almost came to her ankles. She looked absurd, but seeing her in his old clothes somehow made her sexy.  The image presaged an intimacy they didn’t share, and hinted at hopes and promises he couldn’t articulate.

No, he decided, a fling would not do.  He had passing thoughts of picnics, roller-skating, afternoons at the Barkspawn Amusement Park.

She wandered over to the couch while Alistair planned the rest of their life together and pretended to look for something on television.

He settled on a period comedy about a peasant posing as a knight. With butterflies in his belly, he sat on the couch next to Maddy, his feet flat on the floor and his hands safely in his lap.

The movie was predictable, but it wasn’t until the knight had hired the lady blacksmith that Alistair noticed Maddy inching closer to him every few moments. By the first commercial, one of her hands grabbed his shoulder, and the rest of her climbed on top of him.

Suddenly his lap and arms were full of her, and long gone was any lingering remorse about Isolde, Maric, Cailan, or anything else.  He thought of red underthings and dark brown eyes, and he released a quiet, “Oh.”

She smirked at him, leaning so close their lips almost touched.

“Movie’s boring,” she whispered. “And I want to kiss you, if that’s alright?”

“Yeah,” he breathed.  Kisses were fine, great in fact. A good start to any romance. She smelled wonderful, a heady combination of the dinner they made together, his laundry detergent, and a bit of vanilla.

At some point, his hands had found their way to her back, and she smirked at him with her dark lips and dark eyes.

_Oh Maker._

She closed the tiny space between them and touched her lips to his. Her mouth was soft and tasted like the tea but _better_ , and her body felt full and lush and warm. His hands roamed her back, and her fingertips buried themselves in his hair. She teased his lips apart, and he gasped when she deepened their kiss, making his world sensations and heat.

Her fingers began unbuttoning his shirt, and Alistair held himself entirely still for half a breath.  Then, he took his hands from her and gently pulled her fingers away.  They needed to slow down.

“Did I do something wrong?” She slid from his lap, pulling her hands out of his and taking away all the heat and goodness he’d been enjoying.

She stood in front of him, her arms folded across her chest.

“I just--“ Maker, he couldn’t tell her he was a virgin.  Looking at her, he could barely take his eyes off her wet, swollen lips, remembering her tongue in his mouth and the heat of her body.

“I should go.” She spun on her heels, and stomped her way to the threshold.

He was supposed to stop her, he knew. That’s what all the heroes did. He still wanted her—his body was absolutely _humming_ and begging him to rectify the loss—but this did not feel right.

She was reaching for her coat when he launched himself off the sofa, shirt half undone, jeans uncomfortably containing his erection.  “My clothes!” he exclaimed, then silently called himself an idiot. He joined her by the door, afraid to touch her, but hoping he could say something to fix the situation

She paused, one hand on her still-wet coat and the other grasping the hem of his t-shirt.  “Should I strip here so you can stare at me again? You seem to like it when I’m on display and not when I’m close to you.” 

Her eyes bore through him, and Alistair choked on a response. “No, I mean--I just--I want to get to know you better first. Dinner, the cinema, walks in the park. All that.”

She raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief.  “You want to take me to dinner?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes. And talking. I want to do more of that too.”

She laughed at him, and resumed putting on her coat. “Right,” she murmured. “I’m leaving.”

Before he could say anything else, she pulled on her shoes and was gone.

 


	4. The Next Day

The next morning, Maddy woke up late at 11 am feeling groggy. She made herself a pot of coffee, meandered back to her room, and slouched at her desk.

The vibrator was still on the corner, so she shoved that into the top desk drawer, and powered on her laptop.

She bypassed her usual routine of checking Facebook and Twitter, and instead opened Kurzweil, the reading software that made her life easier. Maddy had been sixteen and in a juvenile detention center when she learned she was dyslexic. And now she was twenty, taking her first year of pre-med classes at university.  Mostly thanks to Rica and Bhelen.

She previewed the notes for the first eight chapters of anatomy, surely to be her most challenging final.

By the time she’d skimmed through those, she’d finished her first cup of coffee, and was feeling awake enough to begin studying in earnest. She opened an unlabeled diagram of the male skeletal system to test herself.

Studying the diagram reminded her of last night, and she smiled involuntarily, struggling to recall the names of the finger bones and at the same time remembering Alistair’s touch, gentle and earnest as he held her.

That had been a _really_ great kiss…until he was practically shoving her out of his lap.

Maddy clicked and typed onto the diagram, clenching her jaw at the memory. He could have at least been more upfront about things. Told her she wasn’t his type. Not this dating bullshit. Nobody dated anymore, not really.  He must have thought her naive to make up such a lame excuse.

She laughed to herself. Lame. Sorta like her.

With the hand halfway labeled, Maddy changed to the female diagram, thinking that would help her focus. Instead, it only reminded her of her own short legs and compacted skeleton.  Maybe Rica was right and Maddy should put a profile on LittlePeopleMeet.com. But what would she say about herself? _Black, dyslexic, angry dwarf. Interested in casual liaisons and free dinners._

But it seemed awfully limiting to only date other dwarves. And if she were honest with herself, other dwarves reminded her of Beraht and Orzammar and other things she worked very hard not to think about.  Since moving to Highever, she’d only been with human men.  Granted, they were probably only into her as some sort of kink, and that bothered her more than she cared to admit, even to herself.

Alistair hadn’t been like that, not once he’d apologized, Maddy remembered. He’d asked about her major, her family, and made her feel so at ease she’d almost forgotten she was little.

 _Screw him_ , she told herself.  She put the Bird and the Bee on iTunes and pushed away any more thoughts about him. With luck, she’d never see him again, and she could focus on her exams.

. .  . .  . .

At the end of intramural rugby practice, Marian Hawke pulled Alistair into a forceful hug.  As team captain, she was the first to congratulate Alistair on making the Grey Wardens’ starting roster for the third consecutive year.

“But I beat your brother,” Alistair pointed out, still a little winded from their scrimmage.

“Oh, he’s a sourpuss anyway,” Hawke said, indicating Carver who was angrily tossing equipment into a bag. 

“He would have had me if—“

“But he didn’t,” Hawke interrupted.  “Be proud of yourself.  Right Varric?”

Their coach, Varric Tethras, ambled up to Hawke and Alistair. “Quite impressive, Preppy. Especially considering how distracted you were out there.”

Alistair froze. “Uh, distracted?”  Admittedly, there had been times when Alistair let a fake slip past him or missed a hand signal.  He hadn’t known it was that obvious. He kept thinking about Maddy and her kiss and when he might see her again.

“It must be someone special,” Hawke said. “Look at the way his eyes are all glazed over.”

Varric chuckled.  “Don’t tease him so much, Hawke, he’s already blushing.”

“I have no idea…what you’re talking about,” Alistair managed. Was his blushing all that obvious? He told himself he was simply exhausted after practice.  He should tell Hawke that, at least, but before he could, she bounced away to help her girlfriend, Isabella, collect the practice equipment.

“So what’s their name?” Varric asked, pretending to study his clipboard. With the starters already announced, there couldn’t be much more that Varric had to analyze.

“I’m not—“

Varric laughed again.  “I’ve known you for four years, and I’ve never seen you so red.  You can tell me.”

Alistair sighed.  It was a hopeless evasion. One of the reasons Varric was such a great coach was the man’s way of getting you to admit to anything, even if it wasn’t in your best interest.

“Maddy.” He smiled around her name and pursed his lips.  Maker, he _was_ that transparent.  “She’s a dwarf, like you.

Varric side-eyed him.  “I don’t believe I’ve seen her at our monthly dwarven meetings.  You realize we don’t all know each other, right? I’ve never even been to Orzammar.”

“Sorry, I just—I only meant you’re the only dwarf I know, and now I know two.”

“You want a medal, Preppy?  How about you tell me how you met and when you’re seeing her again?”

“She’s Morrigan’s roommate, and I don’t know.”  Soon, he hoped.

Varric slapped Alistair on the back, and led him into the locker room, shaking his head.  “Daylen and Morrigan. Didn’t see that one coming.”

Alistair mmm-hmm’d and followed his coach inside.  Daylen used to play for the team, but a year ago his knees started acting up, and he had to quit.

“So when are you seeing her again?”  Varric pressed.

Alistair sighed.  “I don’t have the money to take her anywhere, so maybe next weekend?”

Varric shook his head.  “You’re worse with money than my brother.”

“I’m not rich, Varric. Just because I went to private school doesn’t mean—“

“Oh, I know,” Varric nodded.  “Must be tough living on an allowance.”

Alistair knew when he was being mocked, but he kept mum on anything to do with Anna and the boys.

“Tell you what,” Varric said.  “I got some paint cans at the Kingsway branch that need reorganized. I was gonna have Sandal handle it on Monday, but I could pay you to do it instead.”

This wouldn’t be the first time Alistair had helped Varric out with an odd job. Varric had three hardware stores in the area and was working on negotiations to get another open in Denerim.

“Yeah, that could work,” Alistair replied, sitting on the bench in front of his locker.

Varric arched his eyebrows.  “Well, what are you waiting for?  Better ask her to dinner before she makes other plans.  When you’re done, meet me and Bianca, and we’ll head over.” Bianca, of course, was Varric’s mint condition Rambler and _not_ a woman.

“Alright,” Alistair said and got his phone from his locker.

His palms were sweaty when he texted Daylen for Maddy’s number, and his whole body tense when he typed, _“Hey, this is Alistair. Are you free for dinner?”_ But in less than five minutes it was all done, and he only had to wait for an answer.

 


	5. A Date?

By the stone, he was serious.  Maddy sat at her desk and stared at the text message on her phone. Suddenly, the kiss she’d worked all morning to forget was fresh in her mind, and she wondered what had happened to her good sense.

She wanted to reply right away. _Yes, I’m starving. I’m going to kiss you again._

Instead, she slid her phone into her pocket and went to find Morrigan. Maddy didn’t have to go far since Morrigan was in the living room practicing yoga poses in the reflection of the flat screen TV. 

Maddy slumped into the oversized chair that matched their cream-colored sofa. “Alistair asked me to dinner,” she said, hoping her voice sounded calm.

Morrigan turned her head slightly and straightened her toes. “Sounds like somebody made an impression.”

“But you don’t like him.”

Morrigan stood upright, stretching her arms toward the ceiling. She took a deep breath and began working her way through another pose.

“Whether _I_ like him or not doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Maddy swallowed against the anxiety building in her chest. Did she like Alistair? How could she even know? He seemed nice and he was _gorgeous_. But relationships were messy. They left you vulnerable and asked too much.

“He’s weird.”

“Well,” Morrigan said, stepping off her yoga mat to look at her friend, “he’s not the usual sort you go for, that’s true.”

“The usual sort I go for I don’t meet in my apartment.” They also would have sex with her at the drop of the hat and didn’t text the next day. It kept things from getting... _involved_.

Morrigan lounged on the couch, her long legs stretched out before her. “He’s not the worst you could do. Besides, if he asked _you_ , it’s a free meal.  Not a bad way to spend the evening.”

Maddy chuckled, but she wondered what he truly wanted. Everyone had an angle, a motive. She didn’t know Alistair well enough to figure his out yet.

“He’s not your father,” Morrigan said after a moment.  “Far from it, in fact.  Alistair is an idiot, but he’s also responsible, honest, and easier to read than a picture book.”

Maddy frowned, remembering the day Papa abandoned them, leaving Mama to raise two girls alone. How they lived off of Rica’s pageant winnings, and when that wasn’t enough, Maddy, at thirteen, went to Beraht, begging for work.

But that was the past, she reminded herself. Things were better now. She would _make_ them better.

“So Alistair is what he seems,” she said.

“And what does he seem?” Morrigan looked at Maddy with a teasing smirk.

“Gorgeous and awkward,” Maddy replied, grinning despite her reservations. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself.

Morrigan’s jaw fell open. “You kissed him!”

Maddy saw no point in denying it, but she shook her head.  “A little, but he wanted to stop.  He made this speech about dating. And I thought he was crazy. But then he sent this message, and now…Now here we are.”

She looked at her friend with pleading eyes.  Morrigan was her best friend and probably the only person in the whole world Maddy trusted completely.

Morrigan sighed.  “Well, I can’t say it’s for me, but I think you better say yes.  If you want to, that is.”

Maddy nodded and took out her phone.

         .  .  . .  .  .

Alistair took her to a quaint diner on the other side of town. He insisted on paying for everything, including their bus fare. Maddy couldn’t deny that she found it sweet, especially when they sat side by side on ugly, neon upholstery, and he kept holding her hand and slipping his fingers up the sleeve of her coat.

At first it unnerved her since such a thing would make people stare, but she realized she liked the way their linked hands made him smile and sit close to her.

Why she had such thoughts was not something she felt like interrogating--at least not for the moment.

Now they were finishing up their meal, and Alistair smiled at her with one corner of his mouth upturned.  He was cute _and_ sexy, especially given the way his eyes looked into hers and the blush that suffused his cheeks.

Butterflies filled her tummy, and she imagined coaxing him onto his back until he was smiling at her like that from her bed.  That picturesque image was immediately obscured by darker thoughts.

Suddenly, she found herself unable to meet Alistair’s eyes. Was he truly harmless? She devised explanations, one after another: A bet. A fetish. He was actually a lonely creeper. Serial killer. Con artist.  Every one of those made more sense than if he actually liked her.

She rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath, telling herself it didn’t matter what he felt.  If he wanted to treat her to a few meals before they hit the sack together, then all the better. Maddy didn’t need love to have sex, and in fact, that had never been a requirement.

She folded her arms atop the table and leaned forward, giving him her best enigmatic smile.  “So how much more do we have to eat before I get to kiss you again?”

Everything about her posture should have exuded confidence, but it was calculated. Inside, her heart raced.  She remembered how he tasted and how he felt.  What it was like sitting in his lap and having his strong arms hold her against him.

Across the table, he leaned back, his childlike smile giving way to a different expression altogether. “Oh, did I say you couldn’t kiss me? That was a mistake, I assure you. Although…” he grinned conspiratorially, “maybe this time _I_ can kiss _you_?”  His eyes glanced at her lips just as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. He put cash on the table, and rose from his seat. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the booth.

That was the most assertive thing he’d done all evening, and Maddy felt a little less anxious and a lot more eager.

They had made it into the moonlit night--his hand clutching hers--when his phone buzzed. With a mumbled, “Sorry,” Alistair dropped her hand and answered the call.

Maddy ignored the deflation she felt at the loss of his touch. She pulled her coat tightly around her, suddenly frustrated that she hadn’t driven despite Alistair’s assurances that public transportation was just as convenient. It was not as convenient as a heater warming her toes.

“Jonas? Jonas. Jonas, calm down. I’ll--“ Alistair’s voice grew loud and stilted, like this Jonas wasn’t letting him speak.  She felt like placing a reassuring hand on his back or even just standing closer to him.  Instead, she pulled up her hood and leaned against the wall of the diner, watching Alistair pace and grip his phone.

“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about that, I’ll figure it out. Is everything else alright?”

He exhaled in a long slow breath, clutching his phone, his body obviously tense.

“I’ll keep him for the night, okay?”

Maddy felt like reaching for her own mobile and shooting a text off to Morrigan. But she just shoved her hands into her pockets.  This was the blow off call.  The call you have your friends make to get away from a bad date.

Why’d he ask her out and arrange for the call? She told herself it didn’t matter. She rose silently from her perch and walked towards the bus stop.

She only made it three steps before Alistair caught up to her and tugged on her elbow.

She stopped mid-stride and stared up at him.  He slipped his arm around her, and pulled her closer. Surprised, Maddy kept her hands stuffed in her pockets, and gasped as he leaned down.

He kissed her, softly at first, and Maddy sank into him, pulling her hands free and clutching his coat as he drew her nearer.  His other hand cradled her head, and his thumb stroked her cheek. She felt like she were melting, and clung to him for balance.  Her heart raced, and desire struck her from the inside out. 

Unbidden, a whimper escaped her throat.

At the sound, Alistair pulled away slightly until her eyes fluttered open and met his. 

“Were you trying to run away?” he whispered.

His tone was teasing, but his eyes unsure.  Maddy’s heart was in her throat.

“It sounded like you had to go…” her voice trailed as Alistair gave her a half smile, his eyes flitting from her eyes to her lips.

“My nephew,” he sighed.  “It’s Anna.” He shook his head, breaking his gaze and for the moment letting the heat between the fizzle. 

Maddy let go of his coat, but he kept his arm securely around her as they turned toward the sidewalk, this time together.

 


	6. Goodnight

Alistair held Maddy close, and absently licked his lips, remembering the taste of her.  He wanted to take her home with him, cuddle up with her on his couch, and kiss her some more.  He imagined he’d never tire of it. And if he could illicit another one of those throaty sighs….Perhaps it was best that he _couldn’t_ take her home with him tonight.

“I--uh…” he cleared his throat, trying to think of where to begin. “I mentioned my sister, right?”

They paused at the street corner, and Alistair glanced both ways before guiding her across. Another block and they’d find the bus stop.

“The one who…drinks,” Maddy replied, her voice muffled against her hood.

“Er, right,” he said. “She has two boys, Jonas and Jack. My nephews.”

“And that was Jonas on the phone?”

“Yeah.  He’s ten.  And Jack’s six.  And it’s Friday night so….”Alistair struggled to find the words.  Since their talk about her mother and his sister, Alistair knew Maddy understood things more than most.  Still, he felt ashamed to talk of Anna like this.

“She’s drunk,” Maddy supplied.  She stopped in her tracks and gazed up at him, and his arm dropped to his side.  “What happened?”

In the hazy glow of the streetlight, Alistair could tell Maddy had her jaw clenched, and she watched him unblinkingly, waiting for an answer.

“She’s at home,” he replied quickly.  “She’s not _bad_.” He shrugged.  “She’s just…oblivious sometimes.”

Alistair took her hand in his and urged her down the sidewalk.

“Jack’s at a slumber party, and he wants to come home.  Anna can’t get him because she’s been drinking, so Jonas called me.”

“Oh,” Maddy answered. 

By then they’d reached the bus stop, and they ducked into the roofed waiting area, letting the three walls keep off the worst of the chilly breeze.

“How are you going to get him?” she said after a moment. “You don’t have a car.”

“I know.” Alistair sat on the bench, leaving Maddy standing next to him.  That put them at eye level, and he thought of kissing her again.  He could pull her between his legs to keep them both warm and pass the time until the bus arrived.

Instead, he leaned back and rested his hands on his knees.  “I’ll take you home, then catch the train and pick him up.  I’ll bring him back to my place for the night.”

“The _train?_ You’re going to take a six year old on the train with you on Saturday night?”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “He rides the train to school every morning.”

“That’s during the _day,_ ” Maddy sighed.  “It’s not safe to be on there at night. No city watch and isolated train cars where anything could happen.  You _can’t_ take him on there.  _You_ shouldn’t even be on there.”

Alistair was struck by the sharpness in her voice.  “Is it really all that dangerous?”

“Yes,” she insisted.  “Let me help.  We can go get him in my car.  He’s only six, and he’s got it hard enough already.”

Alistair ran a hand along her back, compelled by her earnestness.  “You would do that?  Help me pick up my nephew?”

She nodded, jaw clenched.

He put his other arm around her and pulled her between his legs.  “You feel very strongly about this.”

She didn’t meet his gaze, but she put her hands on his shoulders and talked at the wall behind him. “If someone like you had been around when I was a kid--“ She shook her head and bit her lip.

“When you were a kid?”

She shrugged, and slowly lifted her eyes to meet his.  “What is this, Alistair? What’s a great guy like you doing with someone like me?”

He paused. What did she mean, _someone like her_?  He’d been waiting for someone like her all his life.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. “Hoping I’ll get lucky, I suppose.” 

He kissed her, first her forehead, then her lips.  He liked being eye level with her and having her nestled close to him.  She was eager enough, he realized, and met his kiss with the same energy she’d had last night. 

 _Lucky_ wasn’t even half of it.  She was going to help him with Jack, and she was kissing him in the moonlight.

It was almost too good to be true.

.  .  .  .  .  .

         Jack was at a slumber party on the other side of the city, and as she drove, Maddy shuddered to think of the long ride back he and Alistair would’ve endured on the train.  She pulled into the driveway of a modest two-story house, and as soon as she turned off the engine the front door opened.

Alistair left the car, but Maddy wasn’t sure if she should get out or not. She settled on standing by the car and watching from there.

A little boy she presumed was Jack stood in the doorway in Calenhad pajamas and clutching a pink blanket.  A woman stood behind him in the shadow of the interior of the house. 

As Alistair approached the little boy clutched the blanket to his chest, and exclaimed, “Ali-bear!”

Maddy stifled a giggle and watched as Alistair picked up the boy--who was clearly shoeless--and took an overnight pack from the woman.  Before Alistair even turned around, the front door closed, leaving the three of them alone in the driveway.

Alistair carried Jack to the car, and Maddy opened the door behind the driver’s side so Alistair could fasten the boy in.

“Ali-bear, who’s that lady?” he whispered, but Maddy could still hear.

“That’s Maddy,” Alistair said.  “Where’s your coat buddy?”

Jack shrugged.  “Mommy couldn’t find it.”

Maddy’s chest tightened thinking of the child spending the day without a coat.  Anna didn’t seem as bad as Mama, but she was pretty close.

Without missing a beat, Alistair slipped out of his coat and tucked it in around Jack, and Maddy felt like she might cry.  She tore herself away from watching them, started the car, and put the heater on full blast.

Through her rearview mirror, she glanced at Jack, and the boy seemed content enough.  Alistair could have said something about Anna being irresponsible or about it being too cold, but he hadn’t, and as far as the little boy was concerned, nothing was amiss.

She swallowed hard against the tightness in her chest when Alistair got into the car beside her.

“All good?” she said.

“All good,” he grinned. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.” She shifted the car into reverse and began the thirty-minute drive back to Alistair’s.

By the time they got there, Jack was already asleep.  Alistair carried him up the stairs to the second story, and Maddy helped with opening doors along the way.  The whole thing felt somehow surreal but comforting. If she’d had someone like Alistair in her life when she were a kid, things may have turned out differently.

In the apartment, Alistair deposited Jack on the couch, and she stood near the counter, hands in her coat pockets, not sure what to do with herself.  Alistair went to his bedroom and came back with a fleece blanket and stuffed mabari, and went about the business of tucking Jack into bed on the ugly, plaid sofa.

The child didn’t seem to mind, and in fact reached up for a hug before everything was settled, and Maddy stood there wondering how she ended up watching a Hallmark movie in person.

When he was done, Alistair took her hand and pulled her further into the kitchen.

“I can’t thank you enough for your help.  I didn’t mean for our date to turn out like this, but I’m glad we could take care of Jack.”

“Me too,” Maddy said, and she wished she weren’t so short or Alistair weren’t so tall.  She didn’t want to stand here whispering with him in the semidarkness, straining her neck and unable to even attempt kissing him.

He sighed. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. Family is important to me. Well, the family I have left, anyway.”

She nodded. “Does he stay here a lot?”  He must, considering the blanket and the mabari.

“About once a month maybe.  Jonas sometimes too.  I usually know a few days _before_ they’re coming over, but,” he shrugged, “it happens.”

She wanted to hold his hand and tell him he was wonderful, but the notion was so far removed from herself that she didn’t. “I think your nephews are lucky to have you.” _I’d be lucky to have you._

“You do?” he exclaimed, his surprise genuine.

“Yeah.”  Maddy rubbed the back of her neck, tired of looking up to talk to him, but at the same time not wanting to leave.  “I enjoyed dinner, by the way.”

He smiled at her.  “So the evening wasn’t a total waste?  Good to know.” He paused.  “Was it good enough to say…do it again sometime?”

She tilted her head, pretending to contemplate the matter.  Of course she wanted to see him again. Two kisses were hardly satisfactory, and besides she really did enjoy spending time with him.  “Perhaps.”

“Are you teasing me?” He whispered. “I feel like I’m being teased.”

She poked him playfully in the stomach.  “You’re the one who’s teasing me.  Your mouth’s all the way up there, and I’m all the way down here.”

He laughed, forgetting for a moment they had to be quiet, and then glanced toward the couch. 

Before Maddy knew what was happening, Alistair lifted her onto the counter and planted his palms on either side of her.  He was very close to her now, his suppressed laughter playing across his face, and his broad chest and shoulders hovering over her.

“Better?” he crooned, a wicked smirk on his mouth.

Without thinking too much about it she reached up and pulled him in for a kiss.  Mindful of Jack sleeping--she hoped--she kept this fairly chaste, and released Alistair before too much heat formed between them.  Well, their mouths anyway. With him so close she could hardly say she wasn’t feeling the thrum of desire pulsing in her chest and belly.

She remembered he’d asked her a question she needed to answer.  She tapped her finger against her chin.  “I don’t know.  I’ll need more testing to be sure.”

Alistair half smiled at her, but shook his head.

“I know,” she agreed. “Not tonight.”

He took his hands off the counter and put them around her. “I have a rugby match next weekend. Morrigan and Daylen usually come.  Maybe you could come with them?”

“You play rugby?”

“That’s how Daylen and I met. When he used to play.”

“You’re a Grey Warden?” Maddy said, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to her to find that out sooner.

“I made the first string today,” he beamed, and Maddy realized she liked seeing him happy.  It was quite a change from the frowning man she’d met yesterday. 

He went on. “I’d like it if you were there.  And afterwards we can go do something together. If you wanted.”

A rugby match didn’t sound awful.  Surely it was more enjoyable than the Proving wrestling matches that passed for entertainment in Orzammar.

“Sounds good,” Maddy said.

 


	7. The Rugby Match

For the next week, classes and schoolwork kept Maddy busy, so she had little time to think about her impending date with Alistair or going to the rugby match. On Friday, her anatomy professor _strongly hinted_ they should expect a pop quiz on Monday.  When Maddy drove home after her final class she wondered if seeing Alistair again was even a good idea.

She sensed that things could get complicated very easily, and besides, she needed to use a lot of her time for studying instead of _dating._ Or whatever it was they were doing.

Saturday was a cold and frigid day, so Maddy decided to stay home, claiming she didn’t feel well.  But Daylen refused to buy that excuse, and even played the guilt card, saying it’d be _awful_ if he and Morrigan had to walk to the park when Maddy could drive them instead.

So Maddy found herself at the community football field, swaddled in her winter coat, hood up, with thick wool gloves on her hands and a giant scarf wrapped around her neck and chin.

Despite being thus covered, she felt out of place as she climbed the bleachers—one step at a time—following Morrigan and Daylen to three empty seats near the front.  She sat down on the cold metal, pulled her arms tightly around herself and surveyed the field.

She spotted Alistair almost instantly, since his red-blonde hair stood out in the grey, cloudy day.  She shivered, seeing him in nothing but a matching long-sleeve t-shirt and shorts. He had to be freezing.

As if summoned by her thoughts, he looked in her direction. Maddy didn’t know if she should wave or if he even saw her, bundled up as she was.  Then again, who wouldn’t notice a short, black blob amidst taller and thinner humans?

Alistair smiled and waved at her. The gesture sent sparks of heat all the way to her frozen toes, and she grinned back at him, despite her insecurities.

“Well someone is pleased you’re here, even if you’d rather be at home,” Morrigan observed.  “Or have you changed your mind about that?”

“Maybe a little,” Maddy admitted, watching Alistair stretch his arms overhead then bend over to press his palms on the ground.  _Flexible_. “So how does all this work, exactly?”

“Oh, the two teams square off trying to get the ball to one end or the other. But I guess you’re more interested in what Alistair will be doing?”  Morrigan quirked her eyebrow.

“We don’t have sports like this in Orzammar, so I just wanted to know what to watch for,” Maddy deflected.

“Alistair’s a forward, so he’s going to start out in the middle of the field with the other bigger players,” Morrigan explained.  “Once he gets closer to the goal line, he’ll have to keep the ball from getting captured by the other team’s defenders.” Morrigan indicated two tall women, both with long brown hair.  “Those are the Grey Warden defenders, Hawke and Isabella.  They’re fast and agile.”

“Women can play?” Maddy wondered.  Women were rarely admitted into Provings in Orzammar, and even then they had to provide a great deal of background on their training and experience.

Morrigan nodded.  “That’s basically it. They’ll run into each other, get knocked over, shout, grunt.  It’s all very…primitive.”

Maddy grinned at her friend.  “You seem pretty dismissive of the whole thing when you’re here every home match.”

Morrigan returned her smile.  “It’s true. I do find it rather thrilling.  More so when Daylen still played, but it’s not so bad.”

“Why, Morrigan,” Maddy mocked in her best impression of a Fereldan accent, “You heathen.”

Morrigan playfully nudged Maddy with her elbow.  “Oh, hush.”

Maddy watched the field--more accurately, Alistair--as the Grey Wardens gathered in a loose circle.  Then Maddy noticed a dwarf amongst them, only he was dressed in a thick sports coat bearing the team colors, blue and grey.

“That’s Varric, the coach,” Morrigan said.

Maddy relaxed a little.  It was rare that she ever saw another dwarf, and here was a man in charge of the entire team. Maybe that explained Alistair’s willingness to accept her uniqueness.  It had nothing to do with her, surely.

The team huddled, and shouted, then separated.  After that, the two defenders Morrigan pointed out walked on either side of Alistair with their arms around him, and then they both kissed his cheeks.

Maddy’s heart hammered in her chest, and she swallowed hard at the lump in her throat.  They were both so pretty, long legs and thin frames, both with dark tan skin.  Gorgeous, as gorgeous as Alistair, even.  Maddy stiffened, her back straight and her hands clasped together in her lap.  What did she care who kissed Alistair? She was just here for Morrigan and Daylen.  She didn’t even plan to stay out after the game.  She needed to study.

“Did I mention that Isabella and Hawke are girlfriends?” Morrigan hummed, pretending to examine the hem of her pants.

“Oh,” Maddy said, and started breathing again.

The game started soon after that, and Maddy sat there, eyes trained on Alistair. Everything seemed to happen very fast at times, and then sometimes nothing happened at all. Maddy barely made sense of anything, but Alistair _seemed_ to be doing well.  He didn’t get knocked down as much as the others and he had the ball a lot.

The scoreboard was the only thing Maddy managed to follow with any confidence. The Grey Wardens’ score kept going up while the other team--the Golden Apostates or something--didn’t get past three.

Maddy was surprised--but not disappointed--when Morrigan said the whole thing was done, and the teams lined up to shake hands.

“I have no idea what happened, but we won, right?” Maddy asked Morrigan.

“ _We_ , is it?  I didn’t know you were so invested.”

Maddy frowned.  “I came here to spend time with you.”

“Ah, yes, as if we don’t do that already. In the apartment. That we share.”

“ _Morrigan_.” Maddy hissed.  She saw Alistair looking her way, then noticed the two girlfriends, the coach, and a number of the other Wardens were also watching her.

Morrigan touched Maddy’s back lightly.  “Alright, no more teasing. “ She indicated the team milling around their bench. “They’ll likely come this way. With a match so boring they need something else to gossip about.  Want us to stay close?”

Maddy nodded and followed Morrigan and Daylen down to the first row of the now empty bleachers.

Maddy leaned against the railing.  While the rest of the team stayed near the field, Alistair made his way to her. He was sweat-soaked and smiling, and by the time he reached the bleachers, she was smiling too. He was glad to see her.  Not his teammates or Daylen, but _her_.

She gripped the railing with her gloved hands, only able to get out, “Good--“ before Alistair used the bar to pull himself up and plant a fleeting kiss on her mouth.  He was gone in an instant, gazing up at her from the ground, hands on his hips and his chest heaving.

What was _that_?

Morrigan tsked. “Honestly, Alistair. You’re disgusting. At least have a shower before you start kissing the poor dear.” 

It was then that Maddy noticed nearly everyone still looking in her direction. One of the girlfriends gripped the other’s arm while the coach chuckled and wrote something on his clipboard.  As Maddy’s eyes flitted around, she found everyone was looking right at her.

She wanted Morrigan to help her get away. Maybe they could slip out of the bleachers and to the car.  She shouldn’t have been here in the first place.  This wasn’t _her_. She didn’t go to sporting events and get whisked away by the hottest athlete.  She didn’t kiss people in public, and she most certainly did not put her personal life on display in front of strangers.

She sweat beneath her layers of warmth and trembled.  She reached for Morrigan, and Morrigan put herself between Maddy and the others so no one could see her anymore.  Then Maddy heard Daylen shout, “Hey, guys!” and descend the steps of the bleachers. 

 _It’s okay_ , she told herself, taking in a long slow breath. _I’m safe._

By the time she took a second deep breath, Alistair was sitting next to her, his hand gently rubbing her back.

“Hey,” he whispered, “what’s wrong?”

“You kissed her in front of a bunch of strangers, you oaf,” Morrigan huffed.

While that was true, Maddy knew Alistair meant no harm by it. In fact, he was gazing at her with genuine concern. 

“I’m sorry.  I was just so happy to see you, and I thought--“

Morrigan scoffed.  “Thinking. What a novelty.”

“Would you let us talk? Alone?” Alistair sneered.

“I’m here for Maddy, not to aggravate you. Despite how much I enjoy doing it.”

“Are they still watching?” Maddy said, relieved that her voice was steady.

Morrigan glanced behind her.  “Daylen’s worked his magic and scattered them well enough.” 

Maddy nodded.  “It’s okay. Meet me at the car?”

“Alright,” Morrigan sighed.  “If you’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Maddy said, and Morrigan left them alone.

By now the field and the bleachers were mostly deserted except for her and Alistair. He was still running his hand along her back, staring at the ground.

“Were you really that happy to see me?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, putting his arm around her.  “I’m sorry I made a mess of things.”

Maddy met his eyes and the way he was looking back at her made something inside her unfurl.  No one had ever looked at her like that. Not Leske, or any of the other men she’d been with.

“I don’t do this whole...thing,” she explained, gesturing at nothing in particular.

“Whole thing?”

“Dating. Or whatever you call it.” 

He furrowed his brow at her, and Maddy didn’t have the heart to tell him how fleeting people were in her life. How she liked it that way.

“I don’t like people staring at me,” she said.  “I stick out enough already, and--“ She took a deep breath. “And you’re so...you know.”

“I’m so?”

Stone take him, he was making an honest effort to understand, and he wasn’t brushing her off or making her rush or pressuring her to do anything. It was like he was laying the perfect trap.

And she was willfully walking into it.

“You’re so cute and good and stuff,” she murmured.

“I’m what?” he chuckled.  He put one leg over the bench so that he was facing her.

She glanced up to see him smiling, and she kept staring because of how his eyes seemed to dance when he smiled.

“You heard me,” she said, looking away, because it was clear that he had.

“Well, you’re--“ he pretended to pout, “cute and good and stuff too.” He threaded his fingers in her hair, so that she turned her head to face him.  “So I think we’re pretty evenly matched.  Qualitatively speaking.”  His hand made its way to her cheek.  “So if you don’t do this ‘whole thing,’ why are you here?”

Because the sight of him made her lose all sense for some reason. She bit into her bottom lip to keep from smiling.  “Hoping I’ll get lucky, I suppose.”

He laughed, taking his hand away, but pulling her sideways against him. “Now that sounds familiar,” he said, holding her close.  “In fact, I think I promised you a movie or another date?” He whispered, “Also known as one of the things you don’t do, right?”

She shook her head and forced herself away from him.  “I really can’t.  I mean I would but I have this ‘pop quiz’ on Monday, and it takes me forever to learn anything.” 

“So you need to study?”

She nodded. “‘Fraid so.”

He shrugged. “I can help.”

She leveled her gaze at him. “You want to help me study?”

“Oh, I’m very helpful.  I’ll give you a kiss for every answer you get right.  That should be motivation enough.”

“And what if I get an answer wrong?”

“Then I’ll sit next to you looking like a sad puppy until you prevail.”

She bit the inside of her mouth.  “You’re so weird.”

“Ah, yes,” he murmured, leaning close.  “But you like it.”

She flushed, and heat surged through her.  She did.  She liked it very much.

Alistair pressed a kiss into her cheek.  “So is it a plan?”

She nodded, and he grinned at her. 

“I’ve gotta get cleaned up, and I’ll be over soon,” he told her. “Try not to miss me too much.”

 


	8. Study Date

         Alistair was glad when Maddy answered the door instead of Morrigan, and he felt even better when he learned Maddy had dropped Morrigan and Daylen off at Daylen’s house.

         Maddy shook her head as she closed and locked the door behind him.  “I can’t believe you’re here.  Why would you want to spend a perfectly good Saturday afternoon helping me study?”

         “Kisses, remember?” he said, following her through the living room.  In the afternoon sunlight, the apartment looked more inviting than it had last week. He remembered the foul mood he’d been in that day and reflected on how much life had improved since then.

         Maddy took him to her room--the door to the _right_ , not he middle one, he noted--and he was surprised by the contrast between the living room and her bedroom. This room was dim, the only light coming from a lamp on her desk in the corner.  

         What was overhead, however, drew his attention since it was covered in what seemed to be sheets tacked to the ceiling.  They were of varying shades of blue and purple, and scooped at different heights like giant pillows piled overhead.  The room felt much smaller than it truly was, and it explained why the overhead light wasn’t on.

         While he was gazing at the ceiling, Maddy had opened the curtains to the window opposite the door, and that let in a beam of light that shined down the middle of the room.

         Maddy sat at her desk, leaving Alistair nowhere else to go but the bed in the opposite corner of the room. Not that it bothered him, but he did wonder why she’d study in here rather than in the bright, warm light of the living room.

         Alistair’s knees cracked as he lowered himself onto the bed, and he almost thought he was going to fall on his butt because it was so close to the floor.  But he didn’t.  He sat there and looked at the ceiling some more, then at Maddy in her desk chair with her feet flat on the floor, and then at the two, three-foot high dressers that were in the other corner of the room.  It dawned on him that the room wasn’t strange, simply Maddy-sized, and he had to take a moment to let himself get used to the idea of a world made just for her. Then he thought of a house full of Maddy-sized things and if he could stand sleeping on a bed only two feet tall, but with Maddy curled up next to him. 

         He knew he was getting ahead of himself, and honestly it wouldn’t be the first time, so he rested his elbows on his knees and watched Maddy open the lid of her laptop.

         “I can read,” she announced without turning around.  “It’s not like I’m stupid or anything.”

Alistair furrowed his brow, not sure what to make of that.

“I don’t want you to think I’m stupid.  Because I have this thing.”

“Thing?” he said.

She turned in her chair, and he wondered how he would be able to reward her with kisses when she was so far away.

“Dyslexia.” Maddy pinched the bridge of her nose and kept from meeting his eyes.   “And I just need some extra help sometimes.”

“Dys-lex-ee-uh,” Alistair said, trying out the word.

Maddy swallowed, and her eyes looked everywhere but at him. “Sometimes the letters get a little jumbled in my head.  Like the a’s turn into b’s or the p’s turn into d’s, and it just takes me a little more time. But I’m not stupid.”

Alistair nodded.  “So that’s why it takes you longer to study?”

“Yeah,” Maddy sighed.  “Look, this is going to be weird.  Maybe you should just go watch TV or something.”

“I like weird,” he reminded her, and contemplated sitting cross-legged on the floor just so he wouldn’t have to talk to her over the expanse of her bedroom. “Tell you what.” He got up from the bed. “I’m gonna go get a chair from the kitchen. And then I’m gonna sit next to you and we’ll make up some questions together.  I’ll quiz you.  We’ll see what needs work, and then we can make flashcards.  I like flashcards.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yep. Be right back.” He kissed the top of her head and went to get the chair.

A few minutes later they were looking through her textbook, Maddy at the digital copy on her laptop and Alistair at the hardcopy on the corner of the desk. Alistair started taking notes while she talked and drew diagrams. By the time they worked through the chapter, Alistair had compiled a list of terms to cover, and Maddy told him he was a nerd.

Alistair flipped through his pages of handwritten notes--he had been careful to keep his writing neat in case Maddy needed them for later--and said, “Isolde convinced Eamon to send me to chantry boarding school.  It was pretty rigorous, so, yes, I guess I am a little fastidious when it comes to studying.”

“Fastidious,” Maddy said, smirking at him.  “Then how come you aren’t at your own apartment studying whatever it is your major is.”

“Nonprofit management,” Alistair replied and paused.  He didn’t want to tell her that college classes at a state university came easy to him on account of his time at the Templar Academy. “It’s mostly presentations for the last year. A lot of group work, so I get it done during the week.”  That was mostly true.

“Oh.”

“Should we start going through the questions?” he asked her, and she nodded.

. .  . .  . .

 

Maddy lay on her bed, stared up at her fabric clouds, and sighed.

“Only two more, “ Alistair said from the edge of the bed where he sat.

Since they began working, he’d demonstrated a much greater stamina for studying than she’d ever had, and she was almost beyond exhaustion.  She was also an expert on the digestive system and had him to thank for it.

“Alright.”

“True or False: Mitochondria supply most of the energy for cell use?”

“True. Next question.” She didn’t even have to pause for affirmation.  They were almost done.

“No kiss?”

“Just finish already,” Maddy groaned.  He was only teasing her anyhow.  They’d stopped with the kisses after the first round of questions because they kept getting too distracted, and she threatened to send him home.

“Okay. Last one.”  He paused.

She drummed her fingers on the comforter, impatient.

“Last one,” he repeated.  “True or false: If I say I don’t want to see other people, you’ll agree not to see other people too.”

Maddy stilled her fingers and pressed her palms into the comforter. “That’s not a question about anatomy.” She sat up, staring at the back of his broad shoulders.  Damn, he was big, and he looked even bigger amidst all of the custom-made furniture Bhelen and Rica had given her.  What did he mean by not seeing other people?  Did he think she was going around and laying it on thick with other guys in her spare time? What spare time did she have?

“True or false?” he persisted.

She sat on her knees behind him, fidgeting.  “I’m not seeing anyone else.  And that isn’t a question from the book.” 

“It’s on my list,” he told her, turning a page.  “We’ll come back to that one.  Here’s another--“ 

Maddy moved closer to him until her front was pressed against his back. “What are you doing?” she asked, trying and failing to look over his shoulder. Then she put her arms around him, attempting to make him turn around.  It was futile; he didn’t budge.

“Do you like…”

“Alistair,” she warned, moving to the edge of the bed and getting up to stand in front of him. 

He gripped the notebook in one hand and stared at her.  “This is not going how I planned.”  He ran one hand through his hair, and Maddy wanted to shove him onto the bed, knock the notebook onto the floor, and forget about intestines and enzymes while she straddled him

But he wasn’t making any sense.  “What are you on about?”

He ran a hand across his brow and dropped the notebook on the floor. “I’m trying to ask you to be my girlfriend.”

Maddy narrowed her eyes as her heart thundered in her chest. “What?” she murmured, stalling for time. She didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Kisses without a label were fine. And sex without romance was fine too. They were safe and easy and simple.

“I know we haven’t known each other for very long,” he went on, talking fast now and sliding his hands along his knees.  “But I’m not interested in seeing anyone else. And I thought maybe if you weren’t interested in anyone else either and if we’re going to keep spending time together that--“

 _No_ was still perched on her lips as he rambled, but then Alistair finally met her gaze, his golden eyes soft and gentle, like he was drinking her in.  He was looking at her _that_ _way_ again, and just like it had on the bleachers, it made her go all soft inside at just the _possibility_ of him wanting her.

Then she thought of Papa, his sweet words and empty promises. The day he left. Mama’s spiral into drunkenness.

But Morrigan had said Alistair was nothing like Papa. In fact, as she stood silently in front of him, he seemed less like a risk and more like a soft place to land. Definitely not forever, but maybe _for_ _now_ , she told herself, and besides she could do a lot worse than a guy who gave her free food and kisses that melted her from head to toe.

She approached him, stepping into the space between his long legs, and rested her hands just above his knees.  “I’m not going to see anyone else,” she said, and his shoulders relaxed as he put his hands around her waist and drew her closer.  “You can call it what you want,” Maddy told him, unable to give him more than that, and urged him to lie down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maddy's room is supposed to feel a little cave-like, but still cozy.


	9. Pillow Talk

Alistair let Maddy push him back onto the bed.  He noticed that she didn’t say anything about her feelings for him. Maybe that would come with time. This was a big enough step already.

Her bed was narrow, and he wondered how they both would fit when Maddy wordlessly put her hands on his chest and straddled his stomach, sitting on her knees. She leaned down to kiss him, her hands sliding from his chest and into his hair, and Alistair held onto her round hips, welcoming rush of heat and desire that came when her lips met his.

With her fingers threaded in his hair, she angled his head and slipped her tongue into his mouth. He sighed and held her, reassuring himself that maybe she liked him too, since she was kissing him senseless in her little bed.

Her lips left his mouth to kiss along his jaw and press the soft warmth of her curves against his chest.  She was half his size, but he felt as if he were drowning in her. Her mouth found his earlobe--no one had put their lips there before--and she sucked on it gently. He groaned, low and soft, writhing beneath her.

She pressed her mouth against his ear and whispered, “You tell me if you want to stop, ok?”

He nodded, words escaping him for the moment, but he threaded his hand in her braids, urging her to stay close.  She made her way back along his jaw, then kissed his neck, and Alistair wondered when it might be his turn to make _her_ feel like a coiled up spring. But then she walked backward on her knees until her thighs spanned his hips, her pelvis just inches above his. And if she lowered herself just a _little_ bit more--

“Alistair, you’re so sexy,” she whispered, gazing at him, and slipping her hands under his shirt, her fingers caressing his stomach and chest. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

Alistair swallowed hard, nearly overwhelmed by the way her eyes drank him in and how her cheeks and neck were darkened with desire.  He didn’t want to fuck her, not like this, but he did want to make love to her someday soon--he hoped--after they’d had a chance to figure out how they really felt about each other instead of all this blushing and fumbling. When he could look her in the eyes and tell her he loved her and she didn’t evade him with half answers. When maybe she could say that she loved him too.

“Maddy,” he sighed, finding her hands and pulling them out from under his shirt. This was eerily similar to the way he stopped her last week, only this time she didn’t leave his arms. Instead, she let him guide her off of him until they were lying down and facing each other, Maddy pressed against the wall but still quite close.

“I told you I went to a chantry boarding school, right?” he began.

“Yeah,” she said, looking down at something past her feet.

“And they don’t really encourage--that is I haven’t really--I mean this would be the first time if--“ he took a deep breath, frustrated with his own cowardice. “I take this sort of thing seriously, and I haven’t had sex before,” he finished in one quick breath.

She looked taken aback, but met his eyes.  “You’re a virgin?”

He nodded, waiting for her to laugh or to mock him, but she took his hand instead. “You could’ve told me that before I climbed on top of you.”

He chuckled and wanted to kiss her, but then they’d have to stop and start this conversation all over again.  “I can’t say I minded that, but…I don’t think I’m ready.  Not yet.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding.  “You know that I’m not, right? I haven’t been for a really long time.”

“That doesn’t bother me,” he told her, linking their fingers together.

She widened her eyes.  “You’re not…disappointed? Don’t you want someone who’s waited too?”

“Maddy,” he said, letting go of her hand so that he could put his hand on her hip and pull her close against him.  The movement did nothing to curb his lust, but he did his best to ignore that. “I think you’re wonderful, and I… _like_ you just the way you are.”  _Like_ was a perfectly innocuous word, he decided.

To his surprise, Maddy dragged her hand over her face.  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. You may not like those parts.”  She did her best not to look at him, and almost curled into a ball next him, her face hidden.

Confused, he wondered where the confident woman with all that kissing had gone. Tentatively, he touched her cheek, and gently urged her to look at him again. “I know you’re the kind of person who wouldn’t let me walk home in the rain. And the kind who’ll help me rescue children from slumber parties.  I know that you’re beautiful, smart, and I’m lucky to be with you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” she asked, her voice less than a whisper.

The sound made Alistair’s heart ache, and it was all he could do not to hold her tightly against him.  But this was not a side of her he’d seen before, meek and shy. Were these the parts of her she meant?

If so, Alistair concluded he could only find more of her to lov— _like_.

“Oh, of course you’re beautiful,” he chirruped, eager to lighten the mood, “and all those other things you’d hurt me for not saying.” He gave her the warmest smile he could muster and traced his fingers through her braids.

She stopped his hand with hers and clutched his fingers. “I’d never want to hurt you.”

“Nor I you,” he replied, earnestly, struck by how vulnerable she seemed.

She went from clutching his fingers to holding his hand, and the next thing he knew she was curled against him, her head on his chest and his other arm holding her close. 

“I’m tired,” she said into his shirt.  “And you’re so warm.”

Alistair ran his hand along her back, and it wasn’t long before she relaxed completely next to him, releasing a quiet snore.  He thought again of a house full of Maddy-sized things, and decided that two-foot tall beds and Maddy sleeping next to him was the way to go.

. .  . .  . .

 

Later that evening, Maddy managed to get Alistair to go home by telling him Morrigan would be back soon.  Not that Maddy didn’t like him around; she just needed time and space to think.

For instance, how had she fallen asleep next to him? She didn’t share beds with other people, and besides, they hadn’t even _slept together,_ in the metaphorical sense. 

She wandered to the kitchen for a snack, and sat down at the table with a bowl of cereal, scrunching her face.  He was a virgin.  _That_ was unique. What would it be like if they actually had sex?  Quick certainly, and she forced herself to imagine him rutting clumsily between her legs for a few seconds and then rolling off of her while she laid there unsatisfied and angry.

It certainly wasn’t her job to break him in, she decided, milk dribbling down her chin.  But it was a little sweet that he wanted to wait, if you liked that sort of thing.

She had to remind herself she did not.

         .  .  . .  .  .

On Tuesday, during Maddy’s weekly phone call with Rica, Rica invited Maddy to dinner.

“Bhelen’s signed a new client that he’s ecstatic about, and we would just love it if you were there.”

“What day?” Maddy asked.

“Thursday.”

Maddy didn’t especially like the idea of driving to the suburbs on a school night, but Rica sounded so excited, she had to say yes.

“I’m so glad you’ll come.  Now Bhelen hired a new junior associate a few weeks ago. I think I’ll invite him so that we have an even number--“

Maddy thought of junior associates in Bhelen’s line of work and rolled her eyes. “Do you really have to do that?”

“Well, if it’s just the three of us, it’s hardly special.  I know you don’t like meeting new people, but it’s not like it’ll be a full dinner party, just someone to make small talk with over good food. And who knows maybe the two of you will hit it off.”

 _But I’m not supposed to being seeing anyone else_ , Maddy smiled to herself, still not comfortable with the idea of a “relationship,” but wise to the opportunity it provided her.

“Oh, I can’t do that,” she said into the phone.  “I’m seeing someone.”

“Oh, Madeline!” Rica screeched.  “Oh that’s _wonderful!_ You’ll have to bring him with you. He can be our fourth.   Oh, wait until I tell Mama.”

“No, he doesn’t need to come to the dinner.  I just meant that you can’t set me up with some junior whatever.”

“He _must_ come,” Rica insisted.  “Bhelen will want to have a talk with him, and I’d _love_ to meet the man who’s captured your heart.”

“Rica,” she said slowly, “he hasn’t captured anything.  You don’t need to make all this fuss.  Please.”

She heard Rica sigh.  “Alright, I’ll try. It’s just so exciting. You’ll bring him, won’t you?”

Maddy thought of Alistair in Rica’s big house getting interrogated by Bhelen and fawned over by Rica.  Then, she thought (more realistically), of Alistair sitting next to her while Rica chatted and Bhelen grunted, of Alistair holding her hand when Bhelen made her nervous. The idea didn’t _seem_ terrible.

“Okay,” she said into the phone.  “I’ll invite him.”

 


	10. Family Dinner

Alistair stood in front of his mirror, wondering if he should comb his hair again or if he should put on a tie to go with his dark blue dress shirt.

Alistair shrugged and reached for his comb.  He had to stop himself from reading too much into it. She wanted him to meet her family, and he wanted to be there.  It didn’t have to mean anything else.

He finished readjusting his hair, and a knock sounded on his door. He smiled at himself in the mirror and butterflies filled his belly.

He opened his front door, and there was Maddy peering up at him, with her pretty brown eyes and her soft, round mouth.  He realized that he would be spending the evening with her and probably wouldn’t be able to kiss her for a good amount of it.

So, he leaned down, took her face in his hands, and gave her a good, slow kiss.

When he pulled away, her cheeks were darkened and she pressed her lips together, trying not to smile.  “Good to see you, too,” she said.

When they got to Rica and Bhelen’s, Alistair tried to pretend he wasn’t nervous. But he was surprised to find Maddy fidgeting with her blouse as they got out of the car.

“I hate these things,” she said under her breath, as they walked up the path to the door.

“Why? It’s just your family, isn’t it?” Alistair wanted to tell her how lucky she was to have a sister and brother-in-law who cared about her. To have love and support when she needed it.

She shrugged.  “I don’t know. It’ll be over soon anyway. Then we can go home.”

He liked the way she said _we_ and _home_ , and he rubbed his hand reassuringly along her back.

“I’m glad you’re here, “ she said, taking his hand and ringing the doorbell.

He didn’t have enough time to process that before a dwarven woman opened the door. She had pale white skin and large blue eyes, and she smiled broadly at them. Alistair wondered who she could be since she looked nothing like Maddy, but the woman pulled Maddy into a long, warm hug. Then she held her hand out to Alistair and said, “I’m Rica.”

“Alistair,” he said, shaking her hand, his brow furrowed.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Alistair.  Maddy hasn’t told us much about you, but we’re so excited to have you!” The woman oozed openness, and Alistair wondered how his Maddy and this gregarious woman were remotely related.

She ushered them into the house and closed the door. Alistair tried not to feel giant standing among them, but it was difficult, especially when he handed Rica his coat, and it was as long as she was tall.

She managed it without any difficulty however, as if she entertained giant humans all the time, and when she left them in the foyer to hang their coats, Alistair could only stare at Maddy with his eyes wide.

“Half sister. Different dads. Same drunk of a mother,” Maddy murmured, glancing up and down the long entryway. 

Everything about the house seemed large: wide hallways and doorways, high vaulted ceilings.  The decor was pristine and intricate, carvings and embellishments crafted right into the woodwork.

He wondered how his own apartment must have looked to Maddy, and he was glad his _girlfriend_ \--he had to pause at that thought and stop himself from smiling like an idiot--seemed unconcerned about his living space.

He realized then that Maddy was gripping his hand rather tightly, and he gave it a squeeze when Rica returned.

“Flissa’s setting out the food now, so you two come on to the dining room.” She smiled--all teeth--and Maddy and Alistair followed her, hand in hand.

“Flissa?” Alistair whispered.

“The maid, I think?” Maddy replied.

They went through another round of introductions in the dining room. Bhelen, who was broad and tall (for a dwarf), slapped Alistair on the back and laughed when Alistair winced, so Alistair was very relieved when he and Maddy sat down, side by side, and she held his hand underneath the table.

Bhelen sat at the head of the table, and Rica sat across from Maddy, smiling at all of them.

. .  . .  . .

 

“It’s a really big client, this time,” Bhelen told them, his eyes twinkling as if he had found a long lost treasure. 

Maddy chewed on a bit of pork loin, trying not to roll her eyes. She didn’t truly understand what Bhelen did. What did consulting firm even mean?

“So big,” he went on, “that I think I’ll be able to get us that condo in Denerim that Rica’s always wanted.  No more long winters in Highever!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful Bhelen!” Rica clasped her hands together.

That worried Maddy.  Rica would be so far away.  What if something happened and Rica needed her?  Is this what Rica truly wanted? She had her doubts, but Rica kept smiling and put her hand over Bhelen’s.

Maddy glanced at Alistair.  He and Bhelen were as different as she and Rica were.  He wouldn’t be the kind of man who expected smiles out of her when she didn’t feel them.  And he wasn’t boastful or rich or loud.  He was gentle and soothing and supportive.  After all, he was here with her when he would get nothing out of it.

Bhelen chuckled. “I’m very happy about this client.  We do well on this job and every corporation in Thedas will be knocking on our doors.”

“Oh, just tell them already,” Rica said.

Maddy pretended to be interested, and Alistair did too, as Bhelen glanced around the table to ensure he was the center of attention. Then, he finally said, “Theirin Industries.  It’s a small job for now, but we do it right and we could be their executive consultation firm.”

Rica looked encouragingly at her.

Maddy picked at her food.  “Is that the guy whose son acts like a manchild?” she said, easily picturing the platinum blonde playboy who was featured in nearly every episode of TMZ. How could Bhelen be excited about that?

Beside her, Alistair burst into laughter, which made her chuckle too.

Bhelen put his elbows on the table and leaned forward.  “Their company is worth more than all the business district in Orzammar.  Master Cailan can act however he wishes; he can afford to.”

Rica nodded.  “They’re really a fine family.  Cailan is young; he’ll grow out of it.  His father and Mr. Mac Tir will make sure he does before he takes over the company when he gets older.”

 _Not likely_ , Maddy thought.  She pretended to be especially interested in the glass of water sitting in front of her. She shouldn’t make fun, not when it made things more difficult for Rica.

“Listen, Madeline,” Behlen said, linking his fingers together. Maddy swallowed and ignored the stone growing hard in her stomach.  She had to be more careful.  “Companies like Theirin Industries keep the clothes on your back.  Keep you fed.  Pay your tuition.”

She nodded, unable to look him in the eye.  He was right, of course.  Bhelen took good care of both of them.  And without Bhelen she’d be working some dead end job in Orzammar.  Or worse: still working for Beraht.

Under the table, Alistair’s hand found her knee, and she kept staring at her water. Her eyes stung with tears, but she willed them away.  She’d faced Bhelen many times and many times had put her foot in her mouth.   But she never had Alistair’s hand comforting her. She was relieved he was here, in this big foreign house with people he didn’t know, just because she asked him to be.

“How are classes going?” Rica said, obviously trying to change the subject.

She thought of the impending work between her and finals, and of studying with Alistair.  “Okay,” she nodded. “I think it’s going to be good. I hope.”

“She’s brilliant,” Alistair said, leaning forward, speaking for the first time in ages.  “She works really hard, and I’m…” he faltered, and Maddy held her breath, waiting to hear what he would say.

“I think it’s so exciting that she wants to be a doctor.  To help people.” 

Her eyes went wide.  He’d never said so much to her, but now he was beaming and watching her, his hand still on her knee.

“Oh, isn’t that sweet,” Rica enthused.

The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully, since Rica got Bhelen talking about new contacts in Val Royeaux, and Maddy managed to keep quiet for the rest of the meal.  It helped that Alistair was next to her, providing tiny smiles and comforting touches whenever she needed them.

. .  . .  . .

 

On their way home--with The Gossip playing loudly so she didn’t have to talk--Maddy made it to the rest area fifteen minutes from Rica’s before she pulled over.

“Gotta pee,” she told Alistair, and made a beeline for the rest room. Thankfully, the place seemed empty aside from them.  It was also well lit, allaying her fears about hooded thieves hoping to make a quick steal since it was well past sunset.

Once in the restroom, she washed her face with cool water and stood beneath the slanted mirror, looking into her own eyes.  Ever since dinner, she’d been on the verge of tears for one reason or another, from Bhelen’s hints that she should leave school and just work for him, to Rica’s unfaltering smile.

But at every moment, Alistair had been there.  Maybe not saying a word, but close and comforting all the same.

She threaded her fingers through her braids, resisting the urge to pull at her hair just to ease her frustration.  _He’s going to leave_ , she told herself, but even thinking that seemed futile.  She had no reason to believe that he would, and every reason to believe that he really did care.

She wasn’t sad, after all, only frightened. Frightened of how she felt about him. How after two weeks he’d negated everything she’d come to expect from a relationship.  How he touched her like she _meant_ something, like she was rare and precious.

She took in a deep breath and let it go.  She did this again and again, counting to ten until she had calmed herself. After all, there was no need to tell him all of this.  She could simply go back to the car and drive home. Let things carry on without a word.

However, when she went outside, he was sitting on top of a picnic table, the artificial light shining from above so that his chiseled features stood out.

It was like a jab to the gut looking at him, but Maddy tried to ignore that as she approached.

“You alright?” he said.  She nodded and sat next to him.  His tan, wool trench coat flared around them.  He leaned close with his arm braced against the table behind her so that she felt like they were sitting in the shadow of his coat.

“I feel like we need to talk,” he said, and Maddy nodded even though her throat felt full, and she was trembling.  “You know…” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I care for you. A great deal.”

His words were like a sucker punch, making the sight of him less lethal by comparison.  “You do?” she whispered, She stared at his shoulder, unable to look at him.

“Maybe this is too soon,” he went on.  “I don’t know.  We just met, but this feels…different to me.”

“Different?”

He shook his head.  “I don’t know how to explain it.  Like, I feel safe with you. At peace.  Like I can be myself and it’s okay.”  He shrugged. “That’s rare for me. I don’t know if it’s the same for you, though.”

He waited, patient and close.  Her stomach twisted in knots, and she likewise twisted her fingers together. “No one’s ever spent time with me like this before,” she told him, looking for patterns in the wood of the tabletop.  “I’m always alone, and I usually like it that way.  Morrigan’s my best friend, and I have Rica too, but…” she paused. He was watching her so earnestly, that she felt like crying again, like her time in the mirror had been no help. “But when I’m with you, I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

“Yeah?” she asked, glancing to his eyes before looking away.

“Yeah.”

She stared at her hands, forcing herself to unlace her fingers. “Men in my life don’t stay.” _They don’t want to stay._

“So you haven’t done this before? Like at all?”

She shook her head.  No relationships. Trysts mainly. With men in the crew when she still lived in Orzammar. 

“So I’m your first?”

She nodded, unable to trust her voice.  When she met his eyes, he was smiling at her, a smile so inviting she thought it would break her.

“Then this means something to you, too?” he whispered, cupping her chin, and urging her to meet his eyes.  “I don’t want to leave.  I’m not going to leave unless you tell me to.”

“Stay,” she whispered, closing her eyes and wrapping her hand around his wrist to hold him close.

Part of her felt like running, but it was weak against his hold. So she leaned into his chest, where it was warm and safe, and he kissed the top of her head.

“Tomorrow. Will you stay the night? At my place?”

She nodded, still not sure what it all meant, but realizing she was more afraid of letting go than hanging on.  That was new, too.

 


	11. Eating In

Maddy arrived at Alistair’s at eight on Friday evening. She attempted to ignore any trepidation she might have felt.  This was simply dinner and sex.  Didn’t have to be a big deal.  But try as she might, as she climbed the steps to his apartment, butterflies were in her belly. 

He answered the door with his brilliant, charismatic smile, and took her overnight bag to his bedroom.  He had been cooking, she realized, the aroma of _something_ permeating the air. That she could not place the aroma should have been the first sign of things having gone amiss.

Still, Alistair had table settings on his counter.  Nothing spectacular, plain off-white plates and matching tumblers, paper towels folded into squares. She pulled herself up onto a stool, sniffing the air.  Beef, and maybe pasta? She resisted the temptation to spy on his cooking; since she’d learn how to cook, it was easy for her to be critical of others.

Alistair returned and gave her a quick peck on his way into the kitchen. “Just in time,” he said, moving to the stove.  He carried a pan over to the counter, full of pride.

However, when he spooned the slop onto the plates, it was all Maddy could do to resist scrunching up her face.  Macaroni noodles slithered around on her plate, swimming in some liquid too thin to be sauce and too brown to be any good.  The dish seemed to have ground beef in it as well, but it had been overcooked and looked like tiny black coals. There was no way she could eat it. _No way_.

However, Alistair was still grinning at her, as eager as a puppy, so Maddy found herself trapped between amusement and disbelief.

He returned the pan to the stove and sat next to her.  “You first,” he said.  “I don’t cook much, but I followed the directions on the box.”

She took a deep breath.  It wouldn’t kill her, surely?  Granted, Hamburger Helper was lackluster on a good day, but she wasn’t sure this concoction was capable of a good _second_.  She spooned it into her mouth, eyeing her tumbler of water, and trying not to let her disgust show on her face.

She chewed.  It crunched. Pasta was _not_ supposed to crunch. Her mouth rebelled, and she was spitting into her napkin and avoiding Alistair’s gaze.

“It can’t be…” he murmured, trying a bite from his own plate. “Maker!” he exclaimed, spitting it out. “That’s awful.   Where did I go wrong?”

She was sorely tempted to interrogate his cooking methods, but she did not want to hurt his feelings.  She drank greedily from her water and finally put her hand on his back.  “How about we order some pizza instead?”

He nodded glumly.  “I just wanted to make you dinner.”

She chuckled.  “Perhaps we can make it together next time?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”  He paused, searching her face.  “Or maybe breakfast together?”

Maddy’s cheeks grew hot.  Right, she’d be staying the night.  Here. With him.

“Breakfast,” she repeated.  “Okay.”

They ordered the pizza and ate on the couch while making fun of the contestants on _Family Feud_.  By the end of the episode, the pizza was gone, and Alistair had his arm around her, tracing patterns on the back of her hand with the forefinger of his other hand.

The atmosphere was still and quiet, neither of them quite ready to move. Eventually, though, Alistair stopped tracing shapes on her hand and linked their fingers together.

“Sorry about dinner,” he said, “but I’m glad the evening hasn’t been a total waste.”

By the Stone, he was so sweet and earnest.  She smiled at him, suddenly shy, and her heart beat wildly. She should not be the one who felt nervous, after all.  This was _his_ first night having sex, not _hers_.  She forced herself to treat the moment like any other. “I assume you have other things planned?”

He smiled, letting out a long breath and glancing down.  “I do.  I mean, that is, if you want to?”

She’d been waiting for weeks to fuck him.  Of course she was ready.  “Sure,” she shrugged, pretending it was any other fling.

“Be right back,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

He returned a few minutes later, and lifted her off the couch. She yelped, but he captured her mouth in a kiss, and she relaxed in his arms.

When Alistair carried her to his room, it nearly took her breath away. He had electric candles spread throughout the space: on windowsills, his dresser, his desk, and his nightstand. Music played softly, the words she couldn't make out, but the notes were smooth and gentle, just like him. She noticed two wax candles with flickering flames on his desk, filling the room with the scent of jasmine.

"Is this okay?" he asked her, still holding her in his arms.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.  She wanted to be unaffected by the scene, but it was impossible to ignore his thoughtfulness, his touch, _him_.  Why had he gone through all this trouble? It was his first time having sex, but surely all the candles and the music weren't for his own benefit.

He carried her to the bed and set her on his down comforter. She felt like a blushing bride, to be treated so gently.

"I want you to know you how special you are," he said, joining her on the bed.

She tried to smile at him, but her bottom lip trembled.  She sat on her knees, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.  Alistair pulled her into his lap and framed her face with his hands.  She hoped he wouldn't say anything more and tried to lose herself in his touch, the way he tasted, the solid warmth of his hold.

After a few moments, he broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers, smiling and breathless, and she held on tight, like he was shelter in a storm.

"I don't know where to--" he whispered.  "I don't want to mess this up."

"You won't," she said.

. .  . .  . .

"I got the--" Alistair pressed his hand against the small of Maddy's back, holding her in his lap as he reached for the condoms on his nightstand. "I didn't know which kind you wanted."

Maker, he was having trouble breathing, let alone talking. He wanted to touch and kiss her everywhere, but so far he'd only kissed her mouth and it'd already addled his brain.

"We don't need any, yet," she smiled at him, so sexy and sweet and _his_. "How about we start by getting undressed?"

"Okay." Alistair slid his hands under her shirt, remembering the day he'd met her, all that red lace and satin, it seemed like a lifetime ago.  He didn't want to think of life before that day, or any day without her by his side. With her shirt gone, he stared at her curves, this time covered in purple lace, so enticing against her dark skin. "Beautiful," he murmured.

"Your turn," she said, and Alistair felt her hands unbutton his shirt, but he kept gazing at her, at all of her, so close and warm and precious.

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, her touch like sparks on his skin. He wanted to kiss her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, to learn her body with his eyes and again with his mouth.

She reached behind her, and Alistair licked his lips, as she slipped out of her bra, baring her breasts.  Gripping her hips, he lifted her from his lap and laid her on the bed and pressed kisses into her chest.  He found her hand and linked their fingers together, and with his other hand, he touched one breast, tentatively, until it filled his palm.

. .  . .  . .

Alistair was so gentle and _tender_ , Maddy gave herself to his touch. He was holding her hand--no one had ever held her hand--and his mouth and tongue were hot and wet as he kissed his way from her neck to her breastbone. 

He stopped, gazing up at her, his cheeks and forehead bright red, his eyes large and dark.  All because of her. He called her beautiful, but he was like a Paragon, gorgeous and perfect, strong and safe, and she wanted him like she'd never wanted anyone. 

"Maddy," he said against her skin, like a prayer.

She slipped her hand from his grasp and felt her way along his torso until she touched his belt.  She made quick work of it and the fastenings of his pants.  By the time he noticed what she was doing, he held himself still above her, his elbows resting on either side of her, his forehead nestled between her breasts, his breath hot on her skin.  She pulled his pants and boxers down past his hips and ran her fingertip along the length of him. He shuddered.

Pulling her hands away, she held his shoulders and whispered in his ear. "Take everything off and put your back against the headboard."

He shook his head so that his hair tickled her skin.  He went from hovering over her to half-sitting beside her. He met her gaze and tugged on her pants, pulling them and her panties all the way off. 

She resisted the urge to put him on his back so she could feel him inside her. But after Alistair removed his pants and boxers, he propped himself up on one elbow beside her, his head level with hers.

“Tell me how to touch you,” he urged.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alistair always said he wanted things to be perfect, so I hope I did him justice.
> 
> If you're interested, [this is the playlist Maddy hears,](http://8tracks.com/spartancheckup/licking-lamposts-in-winter).


	12. Give and Take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw image in this chapter

Alistair rested his hand on her round stomach, feeling it rise and fall with her breathing.  Next to him, she was so small and curvy and soft, and he wondered if he would be good enough for her when she lay there amazing and beautiful, setting his body aflame with _want_. 

She took his hand, and whispered directions to him as she guided his fingers between her thighs.  She was wet and warm, and as he moved, she grew breathless beside him, releasing tiny, voiceless sighs. Every breath was echoed by his own need, by the pulsing urgency to lose himself in her warmth.

But he wanted Maddy to be ready, too, wanted to make sure she felt as good as he did, to let her know her pleasure was as important as his own.

She whispered to him again, and he kissed her mouth as he slid his forefinger into her and began moving slowly.  She moved her hips along with his hand, this little dance only a preview for when they'd come together.  But Alistair took his time.  He knew he'd be a goner once he sheathed himself in her luscious heat, so he had to make _this_ count for now. 

He added another finger, kissing her mouth, letting her tongue taste him while he pleasured her with his hand.  She started moaning against him, her hands gripping his torso. He used his thumb to pulse gently against her sensitive bud, and she moaned louder, the roll of her hips keeping time with his hand. 

He felt her grow tight around his fingers, and she gasped before her moans turned to little whimpers against his lips. He slowed his movements until her breathing calmed, and she smiled faintly at him, eyes half-lidded and lips parted. Because of _him_.

He slid his fingers out, _needing_ to be closer to her, to have himself fully inside her and her body in his arms.

"My turn," she said, voice low and soft.  "Lean your back against the headboard."

He didn't want to leave her, but he trusted her and did as she said. She sat on her knees and plucked a condom from the nightstand.  When she came back to him, she straddled his thighs, and opened the package with her teeth. Just that little movement did things to him, and he held himself almost unbearably still as her deft fingers unrolled the condom on his erection.  She took him in her hand, and her fingers were so small, it made him look _big_ , and he wondered if he'd hurt her.  But then he realized what she'd planned.  With him half sitting and her in his lap, he could kiss and touch her, but _she_ would be in control. 

 

 

 

Maker, he loved her, so smart and beautiful and gentle.  She pressed the tip of him along her folds, and he felt her warmth waiting for him.

"You ready?" she asked, and he loved, too, how she took care of him, asked what he wanted.  She _always_ asked what he wanted.  It seemed no one in his life had ever cared enough to check.  It was absurd to think of such things while she perched herself over him, her slick warmth so close.

"Yeah," he breathed, eyes gazing at where they met, and he watched himself disappear into her as Maddy lowered her hips, agonizingly slowly. He groaned low in his chest, his hands scrambling to touch her, and finally finding her hips and hanging on as she moved.

She leaned over him and pressed her hands against his chest, picking up her pace. He wouldn't last long, he knew, and his breath came faster, every nerve in his body seeming to concentrate where he was buried inside her.

"It's okay, Alistair, I've got you," she said and kissed his chest, moving over him.

He threw his head back, closed his eyes and let go. It was like a bright burst as he came, and he murmured her name as the pleasure tore through him. She slowed her movements as he finished, kissing him and whispering gentle nothings into his skin.

When his breathing slowed, he dragged her mouth to his, now their kisses soft, and lazy, but loving, so loving his heart ached.  She left a moment to clean up the little mess he made and to blow out the candles, but soon she was back in his arms.  He kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips.

He wanted to tell her he loved her, but in the afterglow it would seem insincere. So he simply held her and eventually they found their way under the covers, exchanging kisses and caresses but no words.  Soon they settled, curved together with Maddy's back against his front, and when he heard her breathing slow, he pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, and murmured, "I love you.”

. .  . .  . .

Maddy had no idea what time it was when she jerked awake in Alistair’s arms. He slept soundly beside her, and her heart raced while she gazed at him.  She slipped out of the bed, trying to shake the dream from her memory.

She had been back in Orzammar, in their tiny apartment.  She’d tried to leave, but Mama kept locking all the doors. Then, Alistair was outside, trying to get in, only he couldn’t.  Maddy would unlock a door or a window, only to have it snap shut again. She was running around, frantic, by the time she woke up.

She found Alistair’s discarded shirt on the floor and pulled it on, not bothering to button it.  With a glance to make sure he was still sleeping, Maddy went to the living room.

The light was still on, so she turned on the TV just for the noise, and sat on the couch.  Nightmares were not new to her, but usually she was back on the streets, running from Beraht or the police. She hadn’t dreamed about Mama in a long, long time.

Pulling her knees up and wrapping Alistair’s shirt around them, she focused on the late night sitcom rerun.  Mama couldn’t take Alistair away from her.  Mama didn’t even know a thing about him. 

Still, it scared her how being separated from him had affected her. What if he did leave? For now was okay, but how long would _now_ last? Until he graduated? Until he found someone else?

“Hey." 

Maddy jerked her head up.  Alistair was looking at her, squinting in the light, his hair sticking up every which way, and his boxers slung low on his hips.

He took a deep breath, his broad, square chest rising and falling as he made his way to her.  “I thought you left.” He sat down and pulled her into his arms.

“Bad dream,” she told him, burying her face in his chest.

“Wake me up next time,” he said, running his hand on her back.

 _Next time._   Like they’d do this again.  Like he planned to be around when she needed him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head and kissed his collarbone.

“Alright,” he sighed sleepily and lay down with her stretched out on top of him.

She laid on him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he fell asleep, and soon she went to sleep, too.

He was still holding her in the morning, thin beams of sunlight shining down on them through his thin curtains.  When Maddy opened her eyes, Alistair was watching her with a faint smile and running his fingers through her hair.

“Hi,” he said.  “You’re pretty.”

Maddy widened her eyes and bit her bottom lip.  He’d held her all night, and Maddy struggled to look him in the eye because he meant so much to her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

. .  . .  . .

“You,” Maddy said, and Alistair pulled her up to his mouth so he could kiss her good morning. 

“What are _you_ thinking about?” she asked.

“Breakfast,” he told her.  He’d been awake for some time now, watching her sleep, reassuring himself she hadn’t left. That maybe she felt the same way about him as he did about her.

“No more boxed meals, I hope,” she teased.

“Do they make boxed meals for breakfast food?” he wondered, sitting up and settling Maddy beside him.  “I don’t remember seeing them.”  He shrugged. “I got a list from Daylen for breakfast. He said you made the best omelets.”

“I do,” she said, matter-of-factly.  She got off the couch and gripped his hand, pretending to pull him up behind her.

He followed her to the kitchen, practically bouncing with excitement. He was overjoyed to have her here, and eager for her to see what he’d bought.

She went to the fridge first, and he waited with bated breath as she surveyed the ingredients. 

“Not bad,” she mused.  “Oh, and this is _nice!_ ”

Alistair stood by, confused.  What he wanted her to see wasn’t in the fridge, but she plucked his block of gourmet emmental cheese, turning it over in her hands.

“I’ve been wanting to try this for ages.”

Alistair ignored her unintended pun and watched as she scooped all the ingredients into her arms and carried them to the counter beside the sink.

He waited.

She looked down, at him, then down again.  She hefted the food onto the counter, staring at her feet and the chrome stool sitting on the floor.

“You bought me a stool?” she breathed.  She turned, her eyes round and soft, and gazed up at him.

The stool was only temporary.  Someday he’d get her a whole kitchen of Maddy-sized things, and she wouldn’t need a stool anymore.

She made a fist with her hand and held it over her mouth.  She gestured to him, and he went to her, lifting her in his arms and kissing her nose. 

“You bought me a stool,” she repeated, unshed tears in her eyes. He had hoped she would be happy, but he did not expect tears.

“I wanted you to feel at home,” he told her.  He set her on the counter, nudging the breakfast ingredients out of the way. “Is that okay?”

She nodded and kissed him, her little hands cupping his jaw and her tears falling onto both their cheeks.

He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, emotion welling within him. “I love you,” he whispered, praying she would not push him away.

She said nothing, but she kissed him and threaded her fingers in his hair until she was practically clutching him and holding him close.

“I love you, too,” she murmured against his mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> I had more planned, but this felt like a fitting end to this particular story.
> 
> Thanks so much to cock-speed for the art and to adaar-approves for her support.


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